


Whirlpool

by tealuvhonor



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kissing, M/M, Merman Lance, More tags to be added, a plethora of oceanic puns, merman au, spot the Percy Jackson reference
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-08-16 15:19:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8107459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tealuvhonor/pseuds/tealuvhonor
Summary: Keith's curiosity is piqued when he comes to the aid of someone who is definitely not human.It must be high tide, because he's in WAY over his head.





	1. La Mer

**Author's Note:**

> Keith really hates the beach and Lance is here to change that.

Keith's legs hung over the edge of the dock, watching the water dance below him in surges of foam and knocking against the barnacle-ridden pillars. How long had he been waiting? 

He promised he’d be here.

The first time he met Lance, Keith had been reluctantly dragged to the beach, an activity he was not  
particularly fond of to begin with. For one, his pale skin practically burnt to a goddamn crisp under the scorching July heat, and he didn't categorize getting sand up his ass as a 'fun activity'. Nonetheless, Shiro had begged him to come along as his wingman, having been head over heels for the silver-haired lifeguard on duty there. Honestly, Keith would have refused anyone else that tried to drag him into that sandy hellscape, but Shiro was the kind of person you couldn’t say no to without feeling bad about it afterward. 

That wouldn’t stop him from complaining the entire time, though. 

After about fifteen “It’s too fucking hot”-s from Keith’s end, Shiro told him in the nicest possible way to go cool off in the water and shut up. 

It was at a the very edge of the shore that Keith came across a man- no, something much more complicated than that, tangled within a fishing net and flailing wildly, seeking escape. 

The black-haired boy stopped dead in his tracks, unable to process what exactly was taking place before him. Evidently, he was so flabbergasted that the other…um...person had noticed his presence. 

“Wanna help me out, man?,” the mystery boy’s voice had a lighthearted air to it, if not a bit of annoyance as well. 

“Wh- How’d that happen?,” Keith pointed, unsure if he was gesturing to the net or the literal fucking fish tail attached to this guy.

“You always answer questions with another question?” 

“You just did the same thing!” It annoyed Keith that this got him riled up so easily, but dammit, he was already hysterical. 

Keith decided to save the heavier questions for later, dropping wordlessly to the sand. He couldn’t just leave him there...

The (rather clumsy) creature had sheepishly identified himself as Lance while Keith cut apart the rope that bound him. It was especially tangled around the midsection, and something unidentifiable passed through Keith’s gut as his knuckles brushed past a patch of scales, tough yet smooth under a thin layer of sand that coated most of Lance’s tail. 

Immediately, the merman (?) bucked his hips and squirmed away from Keith’s hands.

“Quit moving!”

 

“It’s ticklish!,” Lance near-shrieked.

“Whatever. I’m starting to assume you were picking a fight with this thing,” Keith mumbled, getting frustrated with one particularly large knot. 

“Hey, if anything, it picked a fight with me.”

“You lost.” Keith deadpanned. 

 

“Ah, my hero…,” Lance tossed his head back into the sand as the last piece of rope was thrown to the side, faking breathlessness.

God, whatever this thing was, he was dramatic as fuck. Annoying. Absolutely Insufferable. 

Keith went out of his way to meet with Lance ever since.

-

The sun had begun its descent to meet the horizon as he tilted his head back. Maybe the beach wasn't so bad anymore.

Keith’s thoughts drifted to his previous excursions with the mer-creature. They’d often trade petty insults and bicker, but there was no denying the curiosity that sparked both ways, with Lance just as fascinated in Keith as Keith was in him. 

It wasn’t a stretch that they could be blossoming into...something else. 

It was so like Lance to be late, that Keith was hardly surprised anymore. What did surprise him was a sudden grip on his ankle, and he practically yelped at the icy cold sensation before yanking his foot away from whatever had grabbed him, but the surprise soon turned to annoyance when a mess of dark hair poked out of the water.

"Give me a fucking heart attack, will you?," Keith snapped.

"Aww, I knew you missed me," Lance said in between his laughter.

Hard as he tried, Keith couldn't stay irritated when those deep blue irises stared back at him- bluer than the sea, radiant as the stars, and oh my god those lashes.

"Sure I did, seaweed brain," Keith's voice oozed sarcasm, but the fond expression he wore betrayed him. “I was starting to think you weren’t gonna show…”

“Current was rough today,” Lance shrugged, water rippling around his shoulders. Slowly, the quirk in the corner of his lips became a smirk. “You really waited all that time just to see me, Keith?”

There was something in the other boy’s voice akin to disbelief, and it tugged at Keith’s heart a bit.

“Yeah, of course,” Keith, answered quietly. He felt his face heat up and ran a hand through his hair to play it off. 

Lance hauled himself up to the pier, leaning on his arms so that he was just about eye level with Keith, but his bottom half was still submerged. However, Keith did get a glimpse of his backside, at the scales that adorned his hips, a lustrous cerulean that faded into a beautiful gradient against the darker contrast of his skin.

Keith was also suddenly very aware that Lance was propped up directly between his own legs. 

"My eyes are up here," the hybrid murmured smugly.

Keith made the mistake of actually meeting the other's gaze and realizing just how close their faces were. He saw the water droplets beading on Lance's jaw, dripping down his collarbone, his bare chest, and Keith found himself reaching out to run his fingers through the other boy's dampened hair. Lance, jesus christ, actually nuzzled into his palm, blue eyes half-lidded and soft.

"You're pretty," Lance whispered, as if he were in a daze.

If anything could cut him off-guard, it was that. 

Is he kidding? He, a mer-creature- or whatever the hell the proper term was, he’d worry about specifics later, had the audacity to look like that, all vibrant eyes and plush, pouty lips, yet he's calling Keith pretty?

The sun felt a lot warmer on the nape of Keith's neck at that moment.

He couldn't even take a breath to answer before being yanked by the collar into a kiss that tasted of saltwater, frenzied and unsure, but amazing nonetheless. 

As the sunset painted the sky, Keith let himself be swallowed up by the sea.


	2. Instruction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance finds out that Keith can't swim. Can't have that, can we?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your lovely feedback really motivated me to continue with the story ❤️ Love y'all

"Come on, Keith. I swear it's not that cold!"

"Says the one of us that's literally cold blooded," 

"Alright, fair point, but would you change your mind if I said it'd make me really really happy if you swam with me?" 

Lance, looming far enough into the water that civilians wouldn't see his tail, was pleading with the other boy to join him among the tide, his slender form rising and falling as the waves came rolling in. 

Keith sat in the sand, knees hugged to his chest- fully clothed, mind you. In fact, he never dared to shed his clothes on the beach. Honestly, he knew he'd be asked to go into the water at some point. There were only so many ways to spend time with someone who was forever bound to the ocean. 

He just dreaded the concept. 

"I just don't feel like it," Keith said hurriedly, hoping that was a satisfactory answer and he didn't have to explain himself. The black haired boy dug his toes into the sand, trying to avoid his companion's eyes. The waves waxed inward, slow but powerful, dissipating into foam that slid toward his pale legs. He supposed they were companions now, for lack of a better word. Lance drew him to the beach nowadays as if he possessed a magnetic pull. Anytime they weren't together, he found his thoughts drifting to glistening scales, charming, self satisfied smiles, and lips that tasted of saltwater. 

Truly, it terrified Keith. He still hadn't informed Shiro about his Little Mermaid-esque exploits, instead lying about where he disappeared to every day, knowing that his friend would 100% not believe him had he claimed he'd just really grown to like the beach. Instead, Keith said he'd amped up his kickboxing regimen, which was really the whitest of lies, he'd like to think. 

The thing about Shiro was that he had a built-in bullshit detector, not unlike a mother who could sense when her child was lying. Frankly, there were too many mom analogies that fit Shiro's personality. It was mildly terrifying. 

Anyways, Keith felt eyes on his back every time he left their shared dorm room. 

Said guilty jackass continued to avoid meeting Lance's (devastatingly gorgeous) eyes, gnawing on his bottom lip. 

"Hey, wait a second," Lance piped up, quirking his brow, "You can't swim, can you?" 

"O-of course I can...," Keith rebutted, perhaps a bit too quickly. Lance stared back, obviously not buying it. "Fine. I never learned. If you laugh, I will punch you so hard-" 

"Alright, first of all, you can't reach me, and second, you live on the West Coast! How'd you never learn?," Lance was talking with his hands now, accentuating his point by splashing around wildly. 

"Calm down. I grew up in Wonju, South Korea. Super inland," Keith's voice turned high pitched, tone increasingly defensive despite the highly amused expression on Lance's face. 

"But swimming is like...like breathing! I don't understand how you've gone all your life just running around on those weird leg things." 

"My leg things are completely normal, for your information. I can't say the same for your uh... situation down there." 

"You love my situation and you know it," the hybrid said indignantly, crossing his arms. How he did that and still kept swimming, Keith had no goddamn clue. "Anyway, it's your lucky day, Keith. I'm totally teaching you how to swim, ASAP." 

"Thanks, but no thanks," Keith's fists closed around the sand at his sides, as if that would keep him rooted to the spot.

It wasn't so much that he was scared of the water, but more scared of making a complete ass of himself in front of Lance. Sure, the brunet was stubborn and embarrassingly dramatic, but he swam beautifully. It was often that Keith watched him dive, glide, and stroke with incredible force, like the ocean was a part of him. 

The mer-creature explained once that his kind had a powerful connection to the moon, and was thus in tune with the push and pull of the tides. It was disgustingly poetic, but somehow believable once Keith saw it in action. 

"What," Lance pressed, "You don't trust me?" 

Under normal circumstances, Keith would have no doubt in his mind that the melancholy lilt in the other's voice was just classic Lance, screwing with him for fun, but something about his demeanor sounded like genuine disappointment. 

Keith was in way too deep, now, pun unintended. Probably. 

The black haired boy didn't even say a word, instead shucking off his black t-shirt and tossing it over his head. Having never been this exposed to his companion's eyes, Keith felt his face heating up, most likely spreading down to his chest. In fact, he didn't even want to know how deep he was blushing. 

Keith wasn't insecure about his body by any means. He was actually in peak physical condition, with a dozen years of hand to hand combat under his belt. He might've been slender, but what he had was all lean muscle. 

No, Lance just got him that flustered. 

"Yes!," Lance shouted triumphantly, a far cry from his demeanor 5 seconds ago, "You'll get the hang of it right away, sweetheart." 

"I regret explaining human pet names to you," Keith murmured as he got to his feet and started wading deeper into the water. The waves rose to his waist, pleasantly warm and tugging him inward. 

"Alright, now just try to propel yourself forward," Lance swam toward him languidly, demonstrating with his own tail. 

"Mhm, easier said than done." 

The mer-creature laughed in response, grabbing Keith's forearm. 

Evidently, Keith was on edge, and his immediate instinct was to yelp and latch onto Lance completely, circling his arms around his tanned shoulders and scrambling to stay above water. He somehow ended up with Lance holding him bridal style, his tail proving strong enough to support the both of them and, wow, should that be this hot? 

Keith exhaled shallowly into Lance's neck, almost too mortified to look up. The water calmed around them. 

"Sorry," Keith said slowly, shivering a bit, "I'm not used to this." 

He was so hyper-aware of their skin on skin contact in that moment- the arms supporting him, one on the inside of his knees, and the other coiled around his back. They'd just never been this close before, and against his better judgement (which, by the way, was telling him to cut and fucking run...or swim...whatever), Keith found himself pressing feather-light kisses to Lance's neck, running his fingers down the nape, and ultimately relishing in the briny taste he'd grown to adore. 

It was Lance's turn to be flustered, apparently. 

"I-Is that a human thing?," the brunet whispered incredulously. Whether he meant to or not, he tilted his head as if to bare himself to Keith's mouth. It was the slightest act of vulnerability, yet Keith found it so endearing that he stifled a laugh against the other boy's collarbone. 

"Sort of, I guess," he replied, finally lifting his head to meet Lance's eyes and noticing, somehow, for the first time, that the mer-creature had teeth that were way too sharp to be considered human, akin to that of a shark. Even so, they only made his smile brighter. 

"Well, it's weird as hell. I like it." 

Keith decided he could give these lessons a try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So wow that was gay


	3. Lure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 0 to 100 real fast

Hypothetically, if someone had asked Keith if he was happy, he'd likely spout some existential bullshit, peppered with sarcasm for good measure. "I'm never happy. Does it really matter? Are you happy? What does it matter how I feel when time is an illusion and global warming is ravaging our planet?" 

That is, if he didn't just deflect at the speed of fucking light- something he excelled at, thank you very much. 

Yeah, his life was whatever. He'd just learned to keep to himself out of habit. 

That was before Lance. 

The two of them, Keith, barefoot and clad in sweatpants, and Lance, with Keith's hoodie draped over his shoulders, were splayed out side by side on the beach, the dim light illuminating them both in a near-dreamlike manner. 

Lately, he lived for nights like these. Technically Keith had always been a night owl and the darkened purple shadow beneath his eyes were evident of that. 

Sleep seemed to be escaping the black haired boy, so much so that he'd found himself in Shiro's old pickup in the dead of night, not even bothering to change out of his pajamas as he'd sped toward the only place that beckoned him like a siren's song. 

That may be more literal than figurative, now that he thought about it. 

He'd examined his own arms on the steering wheel in front of him as he halted in front of a red light and noticed with a bit of surprise that he'd tanned from hanging around at the beach so often. 

Now, Keith was cruising past the boardwalk, along the road beside it. As gusts of cool night breeze weaved through his hair, he smiled softly to himself at the sight before him.

"What brings you here at this hour, sailor?" 

Lance was stretched out lazily on the shore, bathed in moonlight that enhanced his features and made his skin practically glow, never even mind his near-holographic blue scales, which shone brilliantly. The pale scars running up and down the side of his tail seemed to zigzag in the most fascinating pattern. He still wasn't sure if it was rude to stare or not, but let his eyes linger for a moment. It looked like something sharp had pierced it, shredding the scales partially to form streams of scar tissue that would likely never fade. 

He wondered whether either of them would address it. It had to hurt, having the most vital part of you battered beyond repair. Still, even so, Lance was the most breathtaking creature he'd ever seen. You could quote him on that, presuming he'd communicate through the lovesick stuttering.

"Couldn't sleep," Keith murmured, thankful that the darkness masked the full-body flush that he tended to get around his boyfriend...mer-friend...whatever. He kicked his shoes off. He'd be picking sand out of them for weeks, but he was too drowsy and distracted at the moment to care. 

"If you think this rocky-ass beach will be more comfortable than your bed, I have to inform you that you're sorely mistaken," the other boy arched his back as he lifted himself upright, throwing a smirk Keith's way, and screw Lance for having this effect on him. At the mention of his bed, Keith couldn't help but imagine how it would feel with Lance sleeping beside him, fish parts be damned. Flippantly, he wondered if Lance was lonely when he slept. 

He recalled being told that merpeople tended to nod off in shallow waters, drifting in the current until they awoke, and wondered if it was as lonely as he felt once he left the beach. 

A shiver ran down his spine. 

"Hey, you okay?" 

"What? Nothing," Keith stuttered out in a delayed reply, avoiding eye contact and barely noticing his own slip up. 

Lance whistled, "Jeez, you must be tired. You make less sense than usual." 

"Whatever," Keith yawned, "I'm not the mythical creature here, so I can afford to not make sense." He sunk to his knees in the sand beside the other boy 

"Mythically gorgeous and suave, you mean," Lance waggled his eyebrows and reclined until his head was in Keith's lap. 

Keith snorted at that, but ran his fingers through Lance's hair as he marveled at the impossible softness. The object of his affections purred and nuzzled into his hand, eyes fluttering shut. If he could put his life on pause for a while, you bet your ass he'd choose this moment. 

The stars were clear as they'd ever been, he noted, tearing his eyes away from Lance long enough to observe the sky above them. 

"Sky's beautiful tonight, right?," Lance piped up, But you know who's more beautiful?" 

"Don't-" 

"Me," Lance said, sputtering afterward because of the sand Keith swatted at his face. 

"Smartass."

The merman sat up, shaking the grains out of his hair, "Yours, though." 

At that, the corners Keith's lips quirked up. 

"Hey, why do you humans always cover yourselves?," Lance inquired, and tugged at Keith's hoodie strings as he did so. His questions about human culture were ever-so endearing that he tried to explain the best he could, but got stumped the time he was asked about pool noodles...and weed. 

"We get cold," he shrugged, "and it's sort of frowned upon to walk around in public half-naked." 

"Oh," Lance answered as he went on to play with Keith's sleeves. 

"Wanna try it on"? 

"Sure," the other boy said, obviously transfixed with the simple concept. 

Keith shrugged the sweatshirt off, thankfully not getting stuck in the process, and helped Lance get his head and arms through the holes. Was it weird that he was satisfied at the thought of Lance's scent lingering on his clothes? Nah. 

He watched the other boy grasp at the red fabric, almost petting it with fascination.

"Comfy?"

"Yeah," Lance replied without looking up. 

"It's a good look for you." 

Keith watched as blue eyes trailed up his exposed chest with unmistakable appreciation, and gulped. 

"I could say the same for you." 

_________________________ 

They bickered playfully as the night went on, once they both recovered from the suggestive nature of whatever the fuck that was. Keith truthfully could use a dip in the ocean- a cold one. 

They were leaning back to back against one another as the tide rolled in. It must've been something like 5 in the morning at that point, but despite his exhaustion, he was completely content. He reached behind to lace their fingers together only for Lance to maneuver himself so that he was draped over Keith's body, which had now made contact with the ground below. With a labored gasp, he remembered how strong Lance really was, having been swimming from birth. His arms, lithe as they were, pinned him down in the sand. 

Hot damn. 

The look in Lance's eyes said that he hadn't planned his actions beyond this point, and so Keith decided to help him out. He grabbed the other boy's jaw and yanked him down so that their lips met fiercely, all needy and open-mouthed and nothing like their previous ones. Lance let go of his weight so that they were chest to chest, and Keith used his left hand to tug his hoodie up on Lance's back, feeling up the expanse of warm skin that trailed down to smooth scales. 

Everything before this was so chaste, as innocent as affection could get, but now the moon was out and both of their inhibitions were blown away. Up until then, if felt as if they were constantly holding their breath, never letting their more primal intentions come to light, especially since there was a chance of them being caught in broad daylight. 

But they wanted each other, there was no mistake. 

That became even more apparent as Lance dug his fingers into Keith's dark hair. He'd been meaning to cut it, but apparently his partner liked it this way. Keith arched into his touch, appreciating the rough sensation more than he probably should have. He also parted his mouth wider in submission, and that earned him an appreciative groan. Flippantly, he thought about what else could coax that reaction from the merman. 

With his legs parted slightly, he tentatively let his hand trail down Lance's backside, but shied away in apprehension until the other boy reached back and grabbed his wrist, guiding him to grope at him below the waist. 

Oh.

Keith was honestly half a second away from just hooking his leg around Lance's tail and keep him there forever, but they both ended up rolling over just to catch their breath. They couldn't keep the smiles from 

A vivid sunrise began to show itself beyond the edge of the water, glowing golden rays that reflected off the waves. 

Someday, he thought to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm not gonna make this smutty but how does mermaid fuckin' even work? Feedback appreciated.


	4. Submerge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The angst train has arrived toot toot. Trigger warning for brief abuse/self harm mention. Thanks for sticking with me!

Lance grabbed Keith's hand as if it were a lifeline. 

"When are you coming back?"

His eyes reflected fear and anxiety, perhaps a fear that he'd taken it too far this time, and they'd both wanted him to stay more than anything in the world. 

"Tonight." 

The drive home felt almost unreal. It was about 8am and the bustle of the boardwalk was yet to begin, the road yielding barely any traffic as Keith sped through in his truck, palm trees cast overhead and the breeze through his hair. He shifted uncomfortably at a red light. He was absolutely covered in sand. 

Worth it. 

He stumbled through the door to his apartment, dazed, barefoot, half asleep, and trying desperately not to alarm Shiro, who he hoped was still sleeping. He was, in fact, not. 

"Where the hell were you?" 

The inquiry was just loud enough that Keith flinched, steadying himself on the doorframe. 

"Went out for a run." 

"You needed the truck to do that?" 

The younger boy wasn't the type to lie, especially to Shiro, but this was...complicated. He wasn't equipped to explain his aquatic boyfriend to anyone right now, perhaps never. 

l"Went for a run at the beach," he replied, crossing his fingers behind his back. 

"Did you fall in the sand or something?" Shiro asked, something like concern or puzzlement in his expression. 

"I can't answer this many questions before noon, man. I'm going back to bed." Keith trudged past his roommate, but not before Shiro could grab his arm and murmur, "You can talk to me about everything, you know." 

"I know," he answered, "you're my best friend." 

______________

He dreamt of Lance. He dreamt of the way their bodies felt pressed together, and the sea foam drawing close before receding back from which it came. Of his sea-salt tinged lips, so desperate to meet his, and his soft whimpers, and it was bliss. 

Keith awoke holding onto his pillow like a lifeline, and he knew he couldn't wait any longer. 

This time, he took the bus to avoid suspicion. It couldn't go fast enough, to be honest, and it wasn't until his stomach grumbled loudly that he realized he'd forgotten to eat that day. Fuck it, carnival food would have to do. He bought something fried that came on a stick, followed by something cherry flavored and overwhelmingly artificial. Suddenly, a thought came to him. Keith began to scour the boardwalk for the most stereotypical carnival foods available. He filled his bag to the brim with cotton candy, churros, funnel cake, and the like. He remembered Lance distinctly saying he'd experienced the aroma of human foods and longed to give it a try. 

When the beach was crowded, the two of them tended to meet up at an abandoned cove to stay out of sight, since causing a public spectacle wasn't on Keith's to-do list and probably would never be. He imagined small children begging to touch Lance's scales, gushing over how cool his tail was. Lance was probably good with kids, he thought, and a warm feeling blossomed in his chest while picturing it. 

The California sun had begun to set by the time he made his way to their secret hideaway, painting the horizon with purples and vibrant oranges. He poked his head beyond a jagged rock and finally spotted dampened chestnut hair and a slender, dark torso. A smile tugged at his lips immediately. 

This time, there was no banter or playful argument, just a breathless "I missed you." 

Minutes later, Lance had a mouthful of cotton candy and a look of pure, unadulterated wonder on his face. 

"It's like...it's melting on my tongue," the mer-creature said, tongue dyed blue from the sweet. Keith laughed as he started shoveling more cotton candy into his mouth. He'd unconsciously chosen the blue one to match Lance's tail. 

Shut up, it was accidental. 

"What?" Lance stopped eating to stare back at Keith. 

"You're cute as fuck," he admitted, probably grinning like an idiot. 

The other boy's tongue darted out to lap at the sugar on his own lips, gazing up through long, dark lashes. They both leaned in at the exact same time, side by side on the rock they were perched on. Keith tasted the cotton candy on his lips almost instantaneously, feeling Lance cup his jaw and humming contentedly at the sensation. He could spend days like this, years even. 

The black haired boy found he couldn't keep his hands to himself, though, and rested his palm on the place Lance's knee would be if he had them. The texture of his scales rippled under his fingertips and he dared to drag them up, up, up...

"Wait!" Lance blurred out abruptly. 

Keith froze on the spot and yanked his hand backward, startled to be suddenly without the other's mouth on his own. His eyes darted up to the brunette's face and found more than a bit of fear there. 

"What did I do?" 

It was then that Keith noticed that he was encroaching upon the mangled scar tissue bared around the scales on his hips, even more mesmerizing up close. He was quite interested in the texture actually. White, lightning-shaped patterns zigzagged all the way down to where his thighs would be. When he was on top of Keith the night before, it was harder to see or feel the scars, and now he understood. 

"It's just- I've been putting off explaining...this." 

"You don't have to if you don't want to. Trust me, I know what it's like." Keith hesitated, making one of the boldest decisions he'd ever decided to confront. Nobody, not a soul, knew about this part of his past besides Shiro, yet that didn't stop him from gingerly lifting the edge of his shorts to give Lance a peek at the smaller, more raised cuts imbedded into his leg. They were more than four years old, but still an unpleasant reminder that he preferred not to dwell on. 

"Oh. Did you..." 

"Yeah. It was a long time ago. I'm just saying that I know how you feel," Keith muttered quickly. 

A long few moments passed before Lance gulped. "I grew up in Cuba. I was there till about fifteen, whole family and everything." 

Well, that wasn't how Keith expected this story to begin.

"How the hell did you get to the west coast?" 

"I was screwing around during low tide. Nasty fisherman hauled me onto the boat, tied me up," the liveliness in Lance's gaze was dimmed as he spoke, and Keith remained silent. "He kept me below deck for a really long time. I lost track. Anyway, he kept himself...entertained...with me for days- knives, fish hooks, whatever. I think he dumped me somewhere near the Panama canal. People were speaking Spanish when I was there, and it's my first. I picked up some of my English here. I guess I just started swimming one way and never went back." Lance sighed heavily, and there was silence. Achingly painful silence. 

Keith was usually quiet because that was his nature, but now he just had no clue what to say. 

"Lance, that's horrifying." 

"Maybe," the merman whispered, his tone hushed, and he leaned over to rest his head on Keith's shoulder, burying his face in the black haired boy's shirt, " But when you're here I can forget about it. Just for a little while." 

Keith swore he heard his own heart shatter. 

And they stayed there, just like that, side by side with Lance's head on his shoulder, intertwining their fingers, and the waves kept them company.

Just for a little while.

**Author's Note:**

> It's safe to say Allura was too distracted by Shiro's charm to notice Lance flopping around like a dying fish. Feedback is appreciated


End file.
